


Unspoken

by dorothydonne



Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorothydonne/pseuds/dorothydonne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter stood just inside the door and eyed the relaxed shoulders of his lover as the man signed a stack of bills with a flourish. His own posture was riddled with tension; there wasn’t an inch of him that was ready for this--that wasn’t tingling with nervous dread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> This scene in the film is only about 30 seconds, but it really resonated with me, so of course I had to write how it all played out in my head. I know I don't have the dialogue exactly (most of it was muffled, and I only saw the film once), but I tried.
> 
> Also: He's simply credited in the film as "Guillam's Boyfriend." I named him Albert because that was the name that suited him in my head.

“I know, I know. It’s late--I’m nearly finished.”

Peter stood just inside the door and eyed the relaxed shoulders of his lover as the man signed a stack of bills with a flourish. His own posture was riddled with tension; there wasn’t an inch of him that was ready for this--that wasn’t tingling with nervous dread. His day was not ending the way he thought it would when he woke that morning, warm and tangled in the man before him.

“You’d never believe the day I’ve had,” the red-haired man said as he set down his pen. There was an exhausted smile in his voice that made Peter's heart ache. “How was yours?”

The unspoken ease of their evening routine was cut short when Albert caught sight of his face. Peter swallowed the apprehension and told himself he could to keep up his resolve. The constant undercurrent of _It’s for his own good. I’m keeping him safe. He’s better off without me right now..._ played through his mind like a recorder when other thoughts ( _I love him. This will break him. How can I...?_ ) threatened to bubble forth.

“Peter?”

The hurt in his lover’s eyes was painfully immediate as unscripted words began to slip past the younger man’s lips. Strings and phrases and words like “mistake” and “time” and “think.” Eight months together in this flat they’d quietly called home were being pulled apart at the seams by simple sentences Peter doubted he’d remember in the aftermath.

What he would remember, though, was the resounding guilt. The way Albert’s shoulders dropped as he walked from the kitchen and into the bedroom. The sounds of the closet doors opening and hangers being pulled from the rack. Silence instead of shouting; acceptance instead of aggressive pleas to _try_. The unspoken “I told you so” that echoed through the flat when the suitcase snapped shut.

_I need to keep you safe. The only way you’ll be safe is if you’re not with me. I pray I can explain someday, but right now I need to ensure you make it through tomorrow and the next day._

His mind was screaming. His eyes were resigned.

“If there’s someone else, you can tell me,” Albert said, looking down at Peter, who was sitting exactly where he had planted himself after his initial stream of falsehoods. This was the one he couldn’t bear to make--he couldn’t tell this man that there was another when he doubted that there ever would be. The older man’s greatest fear and insecurity had always been that Peter would meet someone closer to his own age, that he would grow bored of their careful domesticity and run off.

Perhaps that would’ve been an easier goodbye to swallow.

If he was honest with himself, he wanted to let him stay. He wanted to be selfish and take that risk and throw the damned suitcase right back into the cupboard. But the only way he’d be willing to do that was if he thought Albert was anything short of irreplaceable. As it stood, the man’s safety wasn’t something Peter was willing to risk for his own comfort.

“I am a grown-up.” It was the only utterance thus far that could be considered a plea. All the rest had been hurt, confusion, regret. But now there was a call for honesty behind green eyes, a begging clarity that wanted for nothing more than affirmation that he had been right about how this would end from the start.

Peter could convince himself to sever the ties for the sake of Albert’s safety, but there was nothing in him so cold that he could grant this final request.

Albert dropped the key on the table and his eyes lingered only a moment before turning toward the door. He had been watching, looking for any signs of a sudden change of heart. Peter knew that the other man’s mind was racing--filling in Peter’s long work nights with sordid romances and stolen kisses; counting down the minutes to when he assumed the bed they’d shared would be warmed by someone else.

_If I get through this, I’ll make you understand. Queen and country be damned, I promise you. Someday._

The door didn’t slam shut the way Peter supposed it would.

The silent sobs that wracked his body shook him all the same.


End file.
